


If these walls could talk

by aostara



Category: Oz (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:41:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23022655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aostara/pseuds/aostara
Summary: Challenge fic --  missing make up scene between RIS and CLaK + POV of someone/something outside the actionSpoilers: Anything B/K up through Revenge is SweetSummary:  Lots of stuff happens in that laundry room....
Relationships: Tobias Beecher/Chris Keller
Kudos: 7





	If these walls could talk

'If these walls could talk, what tales they could tell.'

Or so the saying goes. And I suppose it must be true, because I've certainly garnered my share, especially since the precipitous arrival of prisoner 98K514, otherwise known as Christopher Keller. 

Oh sure, I've had hundreds of Em City prisoners cross my threshold, but most of them stick to a pretty simple routine -- trudge in, dump dry clothes into a washer, dump wet clothes into a dryer, trudge out. But not this Keller character, or his on-again/off-again nutcase/semi-prag/soulmate, Tobias Beecher. Nope, those two give "fluff and fold" a whole new meaning.

For me I guess it all started the day Keller came in with a bottle of moonshine hidden under his sweat-stained wifebeaters and too-snug thermals. To be honest, I hadn't seen much of him up to that point -- as Beecher so accurately pointed out, he hates doing laundry -- but that day I was a sanctuary, his own personal open bar. And then Beecher arrived, freshly shaven, glowing with health and happiness, overflowing with love and compassion for the man who suddenly seemed to need *him* for change. Which lead to a declaration seldom heard -- and even more rarely meant -- in Oz. And a kiss. And a drunken rage. And a rather hapless looking Beecher left to gather up Keller's laundry and return to their pod, bereft and alone. I didn't see Beecher for a while after that, but Keller would occasionally wander in and sit on the counter, staring across the room with an almost painful intensity, as if glaring hard enough would make Beecher magically reappear.

And reappear Beecher eventually did, often with Keller at his heels, following along like a love-sick pup. Well, wolf pup, at any rate. 

Like many others in Em City, the dysfunctional duo and their Irish compatriot, Ryan O'Reilly, found the loud rumble of my machines to be a perfect cover for their nefarious planning sessions. Poor Andrew. Faced with a triumvirate of slick intelligence -- two-parts street and one-part Harvard Law -- he never stood a chance. 

After that I saw a lot of Beecher and Keller for a little while. Or at least a lot of their sheets and towels. But it wasn't long before they both disappeared again, and when Beecher returned, it wasn't with Keller. But he did show up with pretty much everyone else  
though. Well, other than the Muslims and the O'Reillys, who seem to get their meddlesome fingers into everything in Oz *except* the orifices of other men. By now Beecher was a little more savvy, dragging his fuck-and-suck playmates into my most secluded corner rather than risking another case of hacktis interruptis. Little good it did him, though, with Ryan and Said on duty. Poor Sheiman -- he showed up for a quickie and ended up with the self-appointed Wrath of Allah raining down on his head instead. 

Of course, that was nothing compared to what happened to him later. You have to hand it him -- that Keller is quite thorough. But what a mess! It took them hours to clean up all that blood, and I wasn't any happier about it than Querns. Sticky, nasty stuff -- and they never do manage to mop the corners properly. It's been flaking off for months, and lately it's been looking like if Ryan doesn't watch his step where Beecher is concerned, Keller's quite willing to add his to the mix.

Speak of the devil (or would that be god?), here's Keller now, looking about as empty and depressed as I've ever seen him, even more so than on the fateful day of their first kiss. Looks like his new playmate's nowhere to be found, but... ah... here comes  
Beecher, honing in on Keller's pain like a beckon. He's no longer glowing, but the love and compassion in his eyes is the same, and Keller grabs hold of his outstretched hand like a drowning man would a rope. Finally perceptive enough to know that sometimes words only get in the way, Beecher silently pulls Keller close, pressing the dark head to his shoulder as powerful arms wrap around his waist. After a few moments, whispers are exchanged and Keller nods. With a final caress of his tormented touchstone's stubbled jaw, Beecher steps back. "Go pack," he says gently, "I'll fix things with McManus before lockdown." As Beecher walks away, his strides long and determined, Keller watches, and the smallest gleam of hope appears in his deep blue eyes.


End file.
